


Midnight Snacc

by cukimonstaaa



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Bucky is a good singer, Drinking, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings, Smoking, Stucky - Freeform, background Clintasha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 16:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16043981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cukimonstaaa/pseuds/cukimonstaaa
Summary: When the drunken munchies strike, Bucky and his friends order from Midnite Snacks, a magical place that delivers fast food late into the night. The delivery guy that shows up makes Bucky forget all about the delicious treats.





	Midnight Snacc

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I’m trying to work on job applications and I run into prompts. 
> 
> Credit for prompts as follows: tomiadeyemi.com, thefakeredhead.com, Tumblr user neofreudian
> 
> Just in case someone who has read my other fic is wondering, Love at First Flight is not abandoned! Grad school made me too busy to really update. But now that it's over, updates will be coming soon. :)

Bucky’s walking home from work when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

 

“Want to see what kind of trouble we can get into?” Nat asks right away.

 

Bucky knows there’s no point in trying to take control of the situation. He sighs, “Oh god, we’re going to die, aren’t we?”

 

“It’s a Tuesday, I know how to restrain myself.”

 

He can hear the smile in Nat’s voice.

 

“You absolutely do not,” Bucky replies, a small smile pulling up one side of his lips. “I’ll be home in 20.”

 

\--

 

Nat expertly pours out 15 shots from a large shaker, creating an impressive rainbow gradient without spilling a single drop on the counter. She smiles with satisfaction.

 

“Pinterest,” she explains, setting aside the shaker.

 

Clint and Bucky have their arms crossed on the counter, supporting their heads, and are still staring down at the line of shots before them. Bucky can admit they look beautiful and far more innocent than they can possibly be. Nat doesn’t mess around with weak drinks. Ever.

 

Which is why they rarely go out, preferring to stay in and party at home, saving money and staying somewhat safer. The three of them have made a nice home together. Nat and Clint live in the room upstairs, while Bucky has the room downstairs, with the larger bathroom. Even if he has to deal with the extra noise from being closer to the common spaces. Overall, they live happily, never turning down the opportunity to party.

 

Bucky glances at the microwave to check the time. It’s barely 8:15 p.m. Thankfully, he doesn’t have class or work tomorrow, so no matter what happens, he’ll be fine. No excuses.

 

But he and Clint must be taking too long to respond because Nat gets that look. Clint and Bucky instantly straighten up and look at each other apprehensively before finally facing Natasha.

 

“It’s your choice,” she shrugs, walking around the kitchen counter to stand behind Clint and Bucky. She gently grabs their shoulders and, like a true shoulder devil, leans in to whisper, “you can continue your worthless life, or you can become someone who matters.”

 

Bucky rolls his eyes, suppressing a laugh, cause now he knows Nat’s not pressuring them, just trying to scare them.

 

“Jeez Nat-Nat,” Clint chortles, picking up the bluest shot.

 

“Wait wait!” she exclaims, grabbing the next shot. “Let’s do them in order.”

 

Once each of them has a shot, standing up to make room, they face each other.

 

“Cheers!” They clink their glasses together and down their shots.

 

“Oh wow,” Bucky marvels. “That tastes really good! Not that I thought it wouldn’t be,” he adds quickly. “I just thought they’d be stronger?”

 

Clint nods in agreement, already reaching for the next glass.

 

“Oh I wouldn’t judge the strength by the taste,” Nat grins wickedly.

 

“Uh oh,” Bucky mutters.

 

“Uh oh is right!” she says grandly, waving one hand to the set up in the living room. Karaoke.

 

“Ugh,” Bucky groans.

 

“Yes!” Clint grins, pulling out his iPod to bring up his beloved “Singing Playlist” and pick whichever new songs he’s been singing in the shower.

 

“Oh Bucky, I don’t know why you have that reaction,” Nat remarks, tone growing serious for a moment. “You have a great singing voice, unlike my other half there.” She nods at Clint.

 

“Hey!” Clint whines.

 

But Bucky is mollified. He knows he can carry a tune, but it’s nice to receive compliments on his singing regardless.

 

The trio grabs another round of shots, not bothering with a toast this time.

 

\--

 

“I’m hungry,” Clint proclaims, snuggling against Natasha’s side.

 

“Me too,” Nat and Bucky grumble.

 

Clint springs to his feet. “I know just the thing!”

 

He rummages around in a drawer for takeout menus while Nat lies on the couch flat on her back and pulls out her phone. Bucky is nearly upside down on his couch, with his feet over the back of it, trying to look for something on Netflix. He’s not having much success. He feels comfortably buzzed and is enjoying the stress relief he gets from singing.

 

Clint comes back into the living room with some menus and sits on the floor near the coffee table. He spreads them out, but doesn’t look at them.

 

“Donuts!” he yells.

 

Nat hums, tapping away on her phone. “I’m ordering real food.”  
  
“Like what?” Bucky asks brightly, shuffling around to sit properly.

 

“Pizza.”

 

“Aww yiss,” Clint rubs his hands together, looking content. But then he remember his donuts. “Donuts!” he says again.

 

“No. No donuts,” Nat replies.

 

“But, baby,” Clint looks crestfallen.

 

Nat looks up from her phone to his bummed out expression. “Okay, yes donuts. Is one dozen enough, googly bear?  


“Yes, shmootzie poo,” Clint smiles.

 

“Blegh,” Bucky comments. The other two ignore him. He’s not really grossed out and they know it.

 

Nat sits up again, snatching the remote from Bucky’s side. “Food should be here in 45 minutes, gentlemen.”

 

“You’re the best,” Clint cheers. Bucky nods in agreement.

 

“I know,” Nat smiles without an ounce of humility.

 

\--

 

When the doorbell rings, Bucky gets up to answer the door. He pulls it open to reveal a tall, blond, and handsome man. The smell of pizza blows into the apartment and Bucky’s stomach rumbles.

 

“Mr . . .” He trails off looking the delivery man up and down. On the way back up, Bucky’s gaze lands on the box of donuts. “Donuts,” he whispers.

 

The delivery guy laughs, and Bucky loves the sound of it, like nothing is funnier than Bucky in this moment. It’s a full-bodied laugh that rocks the beefy blond’s chest.

 

“Please. Mr. Donuts is my father,” the blond begins. “Call me Duncan,” he finishes with a wink.

 

Starstruck, Bucky silently hands over the cash and accepts the boxes of food.

 

The buff blond pockets the money and waves at him, “Thanks. See ya!”

 

Bucky’s still staring in awe at the blond’s glorious retreating figure when Nat yells from the living room. “Barnes! Bring the food in here. You better not be eating our food!”  


“My donuts!” Clint gasps.

 

Bucky goes back to the others, setting the food down on the coffee table. In a daze, he plops down on his couch.

 

“What’s wrong?” Clint asks while Nat opens the pizza boxes. They’re both watching Bucky carefully.

 

“Duncan,” Bucky exhales like a lovesick fangirl.

 

“Duncan?” Clint squints his eyes like that will enlighten him.

 

“Yeah.”

 

A sappy smile spreads over Bucky’s face. Clint and Nat look at each other, trying to make sense of it.

 

“Ohhkay,” they say after a minute.

 

Bucky recovers slightly, smiling to himself and grabs a slice of pizza.

 

\--

 

“What’s that in your hair?” Nat asks loudly, waking Bucky. He groans, clutching his ears as he realizes he fell asleep on the couch.

 

“You don’t wanna know,” he mumbles miserably as he gets a flash of memory: rainbow drinks do _not_ equal rainbow puke.

 

Clint leans forward to inspect it. “It’s a Cheeto!” he informs them. He studies it for a moment. “I’d eat it if I didn’t know how much product you put in your hair.”

 

He flicks it out of Bucky’s hair, cackling as he easily leaps out of arm’s reach.

 

\--

 

The rest of their morning goes by quickly seeing as there’s only one more hour left of it. They clean up and head out for brunch.

 

They stand out against the wealthier crowd with their dark sunglasses, casual clothes, and in Nat’s case, a gray beanie. Silent regrets dominate their expressions.

 

Once their food arrives, they silently begin eating. After about five bites, Clint strokes his chin like he’s become preoccupied with an ancient philosophical question.

 

“Bucky, last night. . .” He takes another bite of his food, taking the time to chew it before speaking again.

 

Bucky waits with a bored expression, adjusting his sunglasses and sipping his water.

 

“You said something after the food guy left.”

 

Bucky blinks. _Oh yeaaahh_.

 

“Oh yeah,” Nat beams, echoing Bucky’s thoughts. “Was it the delivery guy? Was he hot? Was that why you looked like you had a fever?”

 

“Umm,” Bucky hedges. He feels his face heat up with a blush, knows there’s no point in denying it. Besides, who cares?

 

“Yes!” He finally blurts out. “You guys didn’t see him! He was like Disney princess-pretty.” Looking at their skeptical expressions, he adds, “Or Disney prince-pretty I guess.”

 

But, then he’s unable to keep from gushing. “Broad shoulders, heroic jawline, baby blue eyes, strong nose, perfectly pouty lips. . . so pink they could be girly, except he was manly as fuck.”

 

Nat and Clint share a look when Bucky sighs dreamily before continuing. “He was so buff. I swear he could bench all three of us at the same time. And his shirt! It looked like it wanted to do the world a favor and just rip into shreds.”

 

Bucky stops talking, imagining Duncan in the tattered remains of a white t-shirt, still wearing a red track jacket and perfectly tight jeans. It gets pizza-delivery-guy-sex-scene pretty quickly.

 

Nat waits, but Bucky doesn’t add anything else, he just goes back to eating his strawberry waffles.

 

“And?” she prompts.

 

“And what?” Bucky asks.

 

“Did you ask him for his number or anything?”

 

“Oh!” Bucky gasps. “No. I . . I didn’t think to ask! I was pretty much stunned.”

 

“Damn,” Clint comments. Bucky looks at him questioningly. “Well, that like never happens to you, dude. You got it bad.”

 

“Yeah,” Bucky pouts. “His name is Duncan. I’ll get it next time!”  


“Next time?” Nat questions.

 

“Yes, we’re ordering food from him again,” Bucky decides cheerfully.

 

\--

 

The next time Bucky orders food from Midnite Snacks, he's home alone and his vision is blurry from reading so much. He rubs his eyes tiredly and notices his stomach is growling. How long has it been since he last ate?

 

Checking the clock on his dresser, Bucky sees that he’s been reading for over five hours straight, no longer confident he retained anything he read in the past hour.

 

He frowns, grabbing his phone. He orders half a dozen cookies and dutifully picks up two of his books. He just needs a quick break to refresh his mind and he can get back to studying. He shuffles out into the living room, clutching a blanket around himself while holding the books. He makes himself comfortable on the couch and starts an episode of How To Get Away With Murder.

 

He’s so tired, he doesn’t even think about the possibility of Duncan being the assigned delivery driver.

 

\--

 

Steve can’t help jogging to the door. The last time he was here, the most handsome guy he's ever seen answered the door. He had gorgeous brown locks, icy blue eyes, and sinfully curved lips.

 

To his dismay, no one answers when he knocks. He gets close to the door to listen. He can hear people talking. Maybe they didn't hear him knock?

 

He knocks again. Nothing.

 

 _Hmm_.

 

He tries the doorknob: maybe they just expect him to come in?

 

It's unlocked.

 

“Hello?” he calls out.

 

Whatever conversation is occurring continues without interruption, as though they didn't even hear him, though he spoke loudly.

 

As he steps into the living room, he realizes the noise he heard was just from the t.v. because the only person there is asleep on one of the couches. It's the hot guy from the other night. In sleep, his lips appear more full and his expression is relaxed rather than delighted. Also, he's decidedly less flushed than last time. Actually, he looks downright tired and pale.

 

The books on the coffee table clue Steve in on why he might be tired enough to sleep through the knocking and Steve's raised voice.

 

“Aww,” he murmurs with sympathy. He's no stranger to studying to the point of exhaustion.

 

So, instead of waking him, Steve sets the cookies on the coffee table and grabs a blanket from the other couch.

 

About to cover the sleeping man, he hesitates, maybe he should just wake him up?

 

As Steve stands there, deliberating, the hot brunet huddles in on himself and turns more towards the couch’s back seat.

 

Steve's doubts disappear as he sees that the movement left the other man's back exposed to the cold air. Sucking in a breath, he carefully layers the blanket over the other and tucks in the edges a little. Now if the guy moves again, he'll be warm from all angles.

 

He doesn't see any cash laid out for the cookies, so he decides to just cover it out of his own pocket. Glancing at the sleeping man, he can't contain an affectionate smile. So, he grabs the receipt and draws a smiley face, hoping the guy will understand he was happy to take care of him.

 

Taking one last look at the room, he steps back to pause the show and turn off the tv.

 

 _Perfect. Someone should wake up feeling well-rested tomorrow, even if it isn't me,_ Steve thinks to himself.

 

\--

 

Bucky wakes up slowly, thoroughly basking in the warmth and comfort of his blanket cocoon. He hasn’t felt this relaxed in weeks.

 

Which is suspicious.

 

Reluctantly opening his eyes, he realizes he fell asleep on the couch _again_. Really, if he’s going to make a habit of this, he should probably invest in a nicer couch. Pressing his forehead to the couch's seat, he can’t help feeling happy on this quiet morning.

 

Morning.

 

He jerks into a sitting position, no longer sleepy. Or, he tries to at least. He’s more wrapped up in blankets than he initially thought. He only had one when he turned on his show, but now he’s covered in another blanket as well. The scarlet blanket Natasha always leaves in her usual spot on the other couch.

 

He would never normally touch it without permission. But this doesn’t make sense, Clint and Nat are still gone. . .

 

Wiggling around and putting some core strength into it, he’s finally able to sit up and face the room. He feels like a mummy, encased from head to toes. He looks around for clues to explain his situation. The TV is off, which he doesn’t remember doing. And there’s a bag of cookies on the coffee table.

 

The cookies.

 

Bucky hurriedly disentangles himself from the blankets and jumps to his feet. As if the delivery person might still be in the apartment.

 

There’s no one.

 

But, there’s a receipt under the bag with a drawn-on smiley face.

 

 _Noooo_ , he slumps his shoulders. He missed his chance to see Duncan again. If it was even him.

 

Lying on his side, he eats the cookies to console himself when a thought occurs to him: maybe it was Duncan and maybe he covered him up, turned off his TV, and left the cookies.

 

The hot blond must be as angelic as he looks.

 

\--

 

The next time the trio orders from Midnite Snacks again, they’re chilling on their balcony. Since it’s on the first floor, it’s basically a patio with a small gate and fence around it. Empty beer bottles are clustered around the center of their patio table and the iHome they brought out with them is playing some of Bucky’s favorite songs. The patio is on the way to the front door, so they know they won’t miss the delivery person.

 

When Nat goes inside to grab another round of beers, Clint puts his feet up on her empty chair and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Nat comes back as “Say It Ain’t So” by Weezer comes on.

 

Bucky starts singing along, “Ohh yeahh. . . Alright.”

 

Clint moves his feet to let Nat sit again, but then in perfect unison, they both make room on their chair and put their feet up next to the other’s legs.

 

“Say it ain’t so woooOOOoooah . . .  your drug is a heartbreaker,” Bucky croons softly, but louder than the actual music. Nat grins, relaxing in her seat. Clint tries to finish his cigarette quickly to vocalize the guitar bits.

 

“Like father, step-father! The son is drowning in the flood.”

 

“Yeah yeah!” Clint belts out, getting more dramatic with the guitar miming. “Neeew neeew new do doo do!”

 

“Say it ain’t soooo-Oh-oh-oo-oh!” Bucky’s voice flutters attractively at the end, making the other two burst with laughter. “My love is a life-taker . . .” he ends the song, holding back a laugh.

 

Clint finishes miming the last guitar piece for good measure.

 

It’s quiet for about two seconds. Then, someone says, “Wow! That was amazing!”

 

The trio flinches in surprise, twisting in their seats to spot Duncan standing just outside their patio.  

 

“I’d clap, but,” he lifts up the food boxes.

 

“Hey!” Bucky says breathlessly. “Duncan!” his grin is suddenly brighter than the patio light.

 

The blond deliveryman frowns and tilts his head like the most adorable confused puppy. “Duncan?” He looks around as though Bucky might be talking to someone behind him, but there’s no one else.

 

“Oh!” The blond suddenly gasps. “No, no! That’s not--” He walks closer to the patio’s gate, opening and shutting it behind himself as he approaches the table.

 

He looks for a spot to set the boxes down, at last prompting the others to move again. Clint moves some beer bottles out of the way while Bucky and Nat move empty chip bags aside.

 

Carefully setting down the food, the smiling blond steps closer to Bucky, “My name is Steve.”

 

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to frown in confusion. “But. . .” he trails off, thinking.

 

Steve’s smile grows even happier as he watches Bucky figure it out, like he’s watching a particularly adorable puppy learn a trick.

 

“Oh!” Bucky facepalms, hiding his face until he hears Steve chuckle gently.

 

“I was so drunk,” he admits, peering up at Steve.

 

“Yeah, I figured,” Steve agrees without judgement.

 

Nat clears her throat pointedly.

 

“Steve, this is Nat, and that’s Clint,” Bucky says, sounding more confident again. “Nat, Clint, this is Steve.”

 

“Hey! Nice to meet y’all,” Steve says cheerfully.

 

“Nice to meet you,” Nat replies with a kind smile.

 

“Hey man,” Clint rumbles.

 

Nat looks at Clint, communicating soundlessly. They both get up and wave before going back inside. Bucky knows they will expect all the details later.

 

“Subtle,” Steve remarks good-naturedly, sitting in the chair opposite Bucky.

 

“So . . . Steve,” Bucky says carefully, still trying to figure out how to fix the situation and ask Steve out on a date.

 

“So . . . .” Steve waits, raising an eyebrow.

 

Bucky blinks.

 

Steve bites down on his lip to keep from laughing. “And your name is?” he finally decides to help Bucky out.

 

“Oh! Oh my God. Sorry,” Bucky can feel his cheeks grow hot. He holds out his hand. “It’s Bucky.”

 

Bucky softly clears his throat as they shake hands, “It’s nice to meet you, Steve.”

 

“And you, Bucky,” Steve replies smoothly.

 

It’s silent for a moment before Bucky remembers, “Thanks. For the other night.”

 

A small blush appears on Steve’s cheeks, “Sure. I hope that was okay. You looked so tired.”

 

“Yeah it was and I was,” Bucky agrees, leaning closer to Steve. “But that was very kind of you.”

 

Steve still looks a little embarrassed, so Bucky asks, “ Can I get you something to drink?”

 

Steve sighs. “I wish, but I still have a couple more hours on the clock.” He gets to his feet. Out of habit, Bucky gets up too.

 

“Well, it was nice seeing you,” Bucky stalls.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Steve doesn’t look like he wants to leave yet.

 

“Uhh,” Bucky gathers up as much courage as he can. “Would you like to hang out sometime?”

 

There. He got it out.

 

“Is it okay to ask that?” he worries suddenly. Steve is here because he’s working.

 

He holds his breath and waits as Steve’s eyes essentially twinkle with his smile, “Yeah it’s okay when _you_ ask. And I’d love to.” He steps closer and _holy cheese puffs_ , his eyelashes are unfairly long. “Can I see your phone?” he asks.

 

“Yes,” Bucky hands it over and tries to contain his giddiness as Steve enters his phone number.

 

He glances at the patio door only to do a double-take: Clint is plastered to the window holding some cash.

 

Bucky gives him that, “you’re dead” look and walks over to open the door. He snatches the money out of Clint’s hand and shuts the door again, scowling at him until he retreats further into the living room.

 

He turns back to Steve, taking his phone back when Steve hands it over. He holds out the cash, “Until next time?”

 

“Hopefully sooner,” Steve grins.

 

“Think I can manage that,” Bucky smiles back.

 

\--

 

_**Months later.**_

  


Bucky’s just finished blow drying his hair when he hears Clint worshipfully say, “Sweet, beautiful Steve. Too good for this world. Too pure.”

 

Pulling on his pajama shirt, Bucky makes his way out to the kitchen, where Steve is grabbing plates for the food he brought home. A whole dozen cinnamon rolls and about half a dozen donuts.

 

It’s after 3 a.m. now, so Bucky decides to eat just one cinnamon roll.

 

“Didn't you go to sleep hours ago?” Bucky asks Clint.

 

“Yesh,” Clint mumbles around a donut. After he finishes chewing, he adds, “but I could feel it in my soul that donuts were coming.”

 

“I believe you,” Steve says. He smiles at Bucky, who sets down his plate to give him a hug.

 

“How was work?” Bucky asks as he nuzzles his nose against Steve's.

 

Steve plants a small kiss on Bucky’s lips before answering, “Kind of slow, hence the extra food.”

 

“Thank you, Steve. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Clint declares as he retreats back up the stairs with a plate full of rolls and a mug of hot chocolate.

 

“Don’t let Nat hear you say that,” Bucky jokes.

 

“Nu-uh,” Clint’s voice trails off, followed by the sound of him quietly shutting the door.

 

Once Steve and Bucky are seated at the breakfast bar, Steve asks, “Did you wait up for me?”

 

“Mhmmm,” Bucky hums, licking some icing off his finger.

 

It’s quiet for a few minutes while they eat. Steve cuts his cinnamon roll in half to dunk it into milk.

 

“You know you don’t have to do that,” Steve reminds him.

 

“Well excuse me if I wanna greet my best guy when he gets home from work.”

 

Steve fondly smiles at Bucky for a few seconds until Bucky looks at him curiously.

 

“I just love it when you say ‘home,’” he admits.

 

Bucky swallows a bite of cinnamon roll. “Well, you do live here now.”

 

“Yep, and I love it. Just like I love you,” Steve tells Bucky with a fond smile. He’s watching for Bucky’s reaction: he’s never said it before.

 

Bucky’s silent for a split second before he smiles brighter than he ever has before. He spins his seat to face Steve, leaning forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss. “I love you too,” he whispers against his lips, refusing to break their kiss even to speak.

 

Bucky slips off his seat, about to straddle Steve, when he realizes their combined weight might break the chair. Steve seems to realize this too. So he hops to his feet, grabbing Bucky’s hand and leads him to _their_ bedroom.

 


End file.
